When you think of the 1939 classic The Wizard of Oz, you probably immediately hum "Ding-Dong! The Witch Is Dead" or picture that bright yellow brick road. But the Wizard of Oz little people, known to the world as the Munchkins, have a legacy that is way more complex than just colorful costumes and high-pitched singing. It’s actually a mix of incredible professional opportunity and some pretty dark Hollywood myths that just won't die.
Honestly, the stories people tell about what happened on that set are wild. You've probably heard the rumors. People talk about wild parties at the Culver Hotel or even that dark, debunked urban legend about a hanging body in the background of a forest scene. Most of that? It’s complete nonsense. But the real story of the 124 little people cast in the film is actually more interesting because it reflects what life was really like for performers with dwarfism in the 1930s.
Who Were the Actors Behind the Munchkins?
Most of the Wizard of Oz little people weren't actually professional actors when they got the call. Leo Singer, a Viennese showman who managed "Singer’s Operatic Children," was the guy MGM tapped to round up the cast. He traveled the world, basically acting as a scout and agent. He didn't just find performers; he found ordinary people working regular jobs who happened to have various forms of dwarfism.
They came from everywhere.
For many, this was the first time they weren't the only "small person" in their town. Imagine walking onto a set and seeing over a hundred people who look just like you for the first time in your life. Meinhardt Raabe, who played the coroner—the guy who famously declares the Wicked Witch "really most sincerely dead"—often spoke about how the social aspect was the most impactful part of the whole experience. It wasn't just a gig; it was a community.
Raabe was actually a highly educated man with a degree in accounting, which might surprise people who assume these actors were just "props" for the studio. He later became a pilot and an instructor. The cast included people like Jerry Maren, who was the "Lollipop Guild" member in the middle who hands Dorothy the candy. Maren lived a long, full life, passing away in 2018 as the last surviving Munchkin. These weren't just background extras; they were individuals with careers, families, and massive chips on their shoulders regarding how the industry treated them.
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The Pay Gap and the Hotel Rumors
Here is something that’ll probably make you frustrated: the pay was terrible.
The Wizard of Oz little people were paid about $50 to $100 a week. Now, in 1938 dollars, that sounds okay, right? Wrong. Toto the dog—or rather, the female Cairn Terrier named Terry—was reportedly paid $125 a week. It’s a stinging bit of trivia that Terry the dog made more than the human actors playing the citizens of Oz.
Then there are the rumors about the Culver Hotel.
Judy Garland, years later on talk shows, fueled stories about the Munchkins being "drunks" who had wild, raucous parties every night. She once told Jack Paar that they were "little drunks" who had to be rounded up in butterfly nets. It’s a funny image, sure, but it’s mostly a total exaggeration. Most of these actors were professional, hard-working people. While there was certainly some drinking and partying—they were a bunch of adults away from home for the first time with their own money—the idea that they were a marauding band of out-of-control hellraisers is largely a myth pushed by a studio that wanted to keep the "whimsical" image of the film separate from the actual humans who made it.
The Lingering Legend of the Hanging Man
We have to talk about the "hanging man" because it's the one thing people always ask about regarding the Wizard of Oz little people.
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If you watch the scene where Dorothy, the Scarecrow, and the Tin Man are walking down the road after their first encounter with the trees, there’s a movement in the background. For decades, people swore it was a Munchkin who had committed suicide on set.
It wasn't.
Logic alone kills this one. The scene was filmed on a soundstage, not in a real forest. There were hundreds of crew members, handlers, and studio execs crawling all over that set. If someone had died, filming would have stopped for days. The reality is much more boring: the studio had rented a bunch of exotic birds from the Los Angeles Zoo to make the set look more "alive," and what you’re seeing is a large bird—likely a crane or an emu—spreading its wings. When the film was remastered for high definition, it became crystal clear. No body. Just a bird.
Why Their Legacy Still Matters
The impact of the Wizard of Oz little people on Hollywood can't be overstated. This was one of the first times a massive group of performers with disabilities was featured so prominently in a blockbuster. It set a precedent, for better or worse, for how little people would be cast in fantasy roles for the next century.
- Visibility: It proved that there was a massive talent pool beyond just "circus acts."
- The Star Walk: In 2007, the Munchkins finally received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. It took nearly 70 years, but the industry finally acknowledged them as a collective unit of professional actors.
- Advocacy: Many of the actors involved became early members of Little People of America (LPA), an organization founded by Billy Barty (who wasn't in Oz but was a contemporary) to advocate for the rights and dignity of people with dwarfism.
Life on set wasn't all gumdrops and lollipops. The costumes were made of felt and were incredibly hot under the high-intensity studio lights required for early Technicolor. The makeup took hours. The prosthetic ears and noses were glued on with spirit gum that irritated the skin. They worked grueling hours just like Garland and the rest of the lead cast.
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How to Research the Real History
If you're actually interested in the truth of the Wizard of Oz little people, you should skip the TikTok "creepypasta" videos and go to the source.
Stephen Cox wrote a book called The Munchkins of Oz that is basically the gold standard for this stuff. He interviewed dozens of the original actors before they passed away. He debunks the myths but also gives them the credit they deserve. You can also look into the archives of the Culver Hotel, which still stands today and embraces its history with the cast.
Don't just look at them as "Munchkins." Look at them as the 124 actors who helped build the foundation of modern cinema. They were people like Ruth Duccini, who worked in a defense plant during WWII after the movie was over. They were people like Meinhardt Raabe, who spent his later years teaching people about the history of the film.
What You Can Do Now
If you want to dive deeper into this specific pocket of film history, here are a few things you should actually do:
- Watch the 4K Restoration: Seriously. Forget the old VHS or grainy TV broadcasts. In the 4K version, you can see the intricate details of the costumes and the actual faces of the actors. It humanizes them in a way the old prints didn't.
- Read "The Munchkins of Oz" by Stephen Cox: It’s the most factually dense account of their lives on and off the set.
- Support Little People of America (LPA): If the history of these actors interests you, look into the work being done today for the community they helped bring to the public eye.
- Visit the Culver Hotel: If you're ever in Los Angeles, the hotel has a lot of photos and history on display that isn't just "studio-sanctioned" fluff.
The story of the Wizard of Oz little people isn't a ghost story or a punchline. It's a story about a group of people who took a job in a weird, experimental movie during the Great Depression and accidentally became immortal. They deserve to be remembered for their work, not the myths.